Thank Yous from No One
by YAJJ
Summary: "Thank you, Molly Weasley, for doing everything for him that we couldn't. You never had to, and we can't thank you enough." Said the letter. Molly wasn't absolutely sure who it was from, but she could venture a guess. Some people's parents...


Thank Yous From No One

A Harry Potter Fanfic

YAJJ

A/N: Because I love Molly and Harry interactions (even though this isn't much of one...), and I think that family would be grateful. And... why the hell not?  
A/N 2: So, I'm back into my Harry Potter obsession (wee...), so I have about a billion new Harry Potter stories written or partially written. And to any of those who were reading Beasts of the Forest, an update is on the way. I've almost finished it. To anyone who enjoys James Sirius Potter and Lily Evans Potter, James Potter, Sirius, and Remus meeting up, I urge you to check it out. Considering it's an older work, I think it's pretty good. :)  
Also, I think I made Harry act more like his 2nd year self, rather than his 7th year. :| Oh well.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, there would be a sequel starring the Marauders.

* * *

"_Thank you, Molly Weasley, for doing everything for him that we couldn't. You never had to, and we can't thank you enough,_" Molly read aloud to her husband, looking at him for his thoughts.

Arthur looked rather amazed. Very few knew where the Burrow was, and those who did wouldn't bother sending a letter unless it was by owl. "Quite fascinating, I must say. Look at this handwriting, it is spectacular! The letters glow right off the parchment; I've never seen something like it!" he said, snatching it from her.

Molly glared at him but let him have his fun. "Yes, yes, that's all fine and dandy, Arthur, but _look_. There's nothing to indicate who it's from."

"Perhaps it's a Muggle thing," said Arthur, though he'd never seen something quite like it before.

"And what are they thanking me for?" Molly continued without paying a lick of attention to her husband's idea. "I haven't done anything that a proper person wouldn't do. What have I done, Arthur?" she asked, but apparently didn't want an answer as she stormed about, pacing her kitchen early in the morning, before her boys, her girl, and her son's best friend were awake.

It really was a mysterious thing. As Molly did every morning, she'd went outside to check on the chickens and wonder when the garden would next need degnoming. When she'd left, there had been no note. When she'd returned, eleven eggs in hand and a decision to have Ron and Ginny degnome the garden, there sat a parchment, with an open bottle of ink and a quill resting on it, still dripping ink onto the parchment. Those words had glowed when she'd first picked them up. Molly didn't often use the Muggle term "it was like magic" but there was no other way to explain it. Even to the magical wizards, this was beyond comprehensible, unless someone had decided to charm the quill into writing those exact words.

But she would know if that was happening. Raising seven - no, _eight,_ really - magical children and dealing constantly with magic herself, she had come to recognize the feeling of magic in the air. And this feeling in the air was not of magic.

It was of death.

Acting purely on instinct, she had rushed upstairs to find her four children - no, her three children and Harry, but wasn't it the same anyway? - still sleeping and still perfectly alive. She had even gone to check on Arthur and brought him down to see the strange thing.  
They had yet to figure it out.

Molly took back the parchment and dropped it by the ink bottle again, collapsing into the chair, already tired from the day's running abouts even if it wasn't even seven yet. She scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed. "Maybe it's nothing. Just one of Fred and Ge- one of George's pranks."

Arthur shook his head. "George hasn't played a prank in weeks," he said, glancing upstairs as though to search out his aching son. But nothing could be done - George was deeply situated in a mountain of grief the world over.

"Maybe a really old one..." Molly huffed but knew that it wasn't true. But what in Merlin's name was this piece of parchment from, and _why was the quill working again?!_

It took her a few moments to recognize it, but the quill had moved again. Arthur had completely frozen in place and, once Molly took notice, so did she. They watched as the quill picked itself right off of the parchment, situated itself as though it were being held by a hand, and then dabbed into the ink bottle. Shaking away the excess ink, the quill then scratched 20 words on the bottom of the parchment: _Son, we love you and are so proud of you. See you when you get here. Love, Mum and Dad_

The quill, as soon as the last 'd' had spiraled off rather extravagantly, dropped lifelessly onto the parchment, dropping yet another blot of ink.

Molly turned the parchment toward her and read it aloud, her mind reeling.

_Love, Mum and Dad_

_Mum and Dad_

_Son_

"Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly nearly jumped right out of her robes at the solid voice of the boy who had secured as solid a place as any of her children in her heart. Despite it being seven years since the Dursleys had last mistreated him, Harry had yet to break the habit of rising earlier than most people that she knew - certainly earlier than any of _her_ children... they must have gotten _that_ from the Weasley side, rather than the Prewett's. Down the stairs Harry trod, scrubbing at an eye beneath his glasses.

"Good morning, Harry dear," said Molly cheerfully, not entirely sure if she wanted to know what of the parchment he'd seen.

Harry seemed to notice the odd looks crossing between Arthur and Molly, but he didn't comment. "Um... I can go back upstairs..."

"No, no, no, no!" Molly squealed, scooping up the letter and rolling it up. "Sit, sit and I'll make you some eggs and sausages to eat." she bumbled over to Harry and dragged him into a chair, pressing the parchment firmly in Arthur's hand and hissing, "get rid of it before _he_ sees the note!"

The parchment, though, seemed to have other ideas.

It didn't seem terribly pleased that it was being escorted away by Arthur. So, as the Ministry official carted it away to the shed to be looked over later, it zipped straight out of his hands, hit the floor, and then rose to be level with Harry's head. The parchment promptly unrolled itself, and ripped off the side note that had just been scribbled on.

Apparently satisfied that its deed was done, the parchment dropped to the floor and rolled to Molly's feet, bumping into her every other second as if it wanted her attention. The half that had been ripped off folded itself into a tiny origami swan and fluttered over to land on Harry's hand, moving its head as though to honk at him.

Molly picked up the portion that had come to her and unfolded it, watching as the ink bottle and quill floated over to her and, one last time, wrote something more on the bottom of the page, in the same glowy handwriting as before.

_JP & LEP_

Harry read his portion of the note aloud, looking between Arthur and Molly and looking shocked beyond all belief. He muttered the note again, and seemed to do it until it was memorized. "What... is this?" he finally managed to ask.

Molly rolled up the parchment, running those letters through her head, and tucked it into her pocket. "No clue, Harry. We only just found it this morning. Now, let's get you started on that breakfast, a growing boy like you needs as much as possible." She ambled about to prepare breakfast for Harry and refused - well, not _refused,_ per say, but she didn't really know how - to answer any questions about the parchment that he asked. Once she'd prepared breakfast for him (and had tipped him two or three servings of sausage and eggs - the boy was too skinny!), he went off to kindly wake the rest of the Weasleys and call them for food.

It wasn't until later that day, as she pondered those five letters that the quill has signed last minute, that she stopped and truly _thought._  
JP & LEP. Those could mean any number of things, really. She couldn't think of what they could stand for off the top of her head, but she'd probably think of it in an hour or so and have the "ah ha!" moment of the century. She just kind of really wished the "ah ha!" moment would come now.

Then, as she set the table for lunch for her family - all five of them - she passed a picture hanging on the wall. It was of the original Order of the Phoenix. Two exceptionally bright looking people waved at her, one of them with his arm slung around her waist and holding her close. His tousled black hair shook with the force of his wave, like he couldn't be happier with what was going on.

Perhaps it was true. After all, their original goal had been accomplished just a few weeks ago. Just like the first time, it was because of their son, and someone had been sacrificed. Many someones.

Well, bloody hell.

Molly pulled out the parchment and looked at the signature. _JP & LEP. James Potter & Lily Evans Potter._

Of course! How did she not think of it before? Considering the contents of the note, it should have been only too obvious who it was from.

James and Lily Potter were thanking her for protecting and guiding their child when they, dead for sixteen years, could not.  
Somehow, as she tucked the parchment back into her pocket and planned to have it framed and smiled at the beaming picture-James and Lily Potter, she felt considerably warmer inside, knowing that she had their thanks and approval. It made her feel like she'd truly done something great. And compared to the Dursleys' inability to raise their own child, let alone their "freak" nephew, perhaps she had.


End file.
